Let Sleeping Laigreks Lie
by Ilea Dreike
Summary: Oneshot. LSFexileAtton. Mildly fluffy. After the cave incident on Korriban, all the Exile wants is a nap. Is that so terribly much to ask?


_**Let Sleeping Laigreks Lie**_

**Rated**: T (PG-13), for mild language.

**Summary**: After the cave incident on Korriban, all the Exile wants is a nap. Is that so terribly much to ask?

**Author's Notes**: I have no idea where this idea came from. I mean, everyone who likes to write KOTORII fanfiction just _has_ to give this scene a shot, be it a serious, dramatic, angsty, romantic shot or a rolling-on-the-floor-laughing-your-pants-off shot. I'm not entirely sure which kind of shot this one's going to turn out as… but I just had to try it. Chances are, it'll turn out to be somewhere in the middle. Or funny then angsty then funny/angsty.

Oh, and a note on pazaak—if anyone doesn't know how it's played, it's like blackjack, except the number's 20 rather than 21. And the rules of the game really aren't important in this fic. Just thought I'd let you know that it does show up, so nobody gets confused when they hit a bunch of random numbers.

**Disclaimer**: I own many, many things. Among them are a telephone, a Christmas tree, an internet connection, a desk, and several cereal box tops. Not among them are a million dollars, a beard, a rubber duck, and Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords.

---

_**Let Sleeping Laigreks Lie**_

---

"I win!" came the triumphant cry from the cockpit of the _Ebon Hawk_.

Mira stood leaning casually against the doorframe, watching the proceedings with an amused look on her face. "Well," she said after a moment of silence, "considering that you're playing yourself, I can't say I'm surprised."

The pilot looked up from the pazaak deck in front of him. "What the—how long've _you_ been here?"

"Been watching for a while. Not like there's anything else to do, as long as Cori's still out there." The redhead nodded toward the cast expanse of sun baked rock visible through the window. "We can't exactly go anywhere 'till she gets back, so…"

"Right." Atton gathered back his playing cards, his voice becoming brisk. "Right, well, don't worry too much. I'm sure Blondie'll get her back here soon." It was a few moments before he noticed that Mira was stifling a laugh. "What?" he asked, annoyed.

"Nothing, nothing." She still wore a wide grin, however, which led Atton to believe that it was, in fact, something. "It's just, you're so…" She trailed off.

"_What_?"

But before he had a chance to press her further, he heard the mechanical _clank_ of the boarding ramp being lowered.

---

She'd been in there all day. He knew; he'd been hanging out just outside her door, waiting for her to emerge— "So I can find out where she wants to plot the next course," he'd explained to an amused Mandalore, who hadn't bothered to hide his snort of disbelief. Atton had waited for hours, busying himself with his pazaak deck, but she hadn't come out, even to eat.

Cori had seemed rather distressed as she boarded the _Ebon Hawk_ early that morning. Bao-Dur, Mical, and Mandalore, all being intelligent men, had allowed her some space as they welcomed her back, keeping a radius of about five feet. The girls and the droids, also being intelligent beings, had quickly altered their positions on the ship in order to respect this space. Atton, having little to say for himself in the way of intelligence (as he was constantly being reminded) had stepped forward immediately with a piratey grin on his face, the type that always seemed to cheer her up.

But she'd refused to speak to him, or even meet his eyes. He could say with relative certainty that it hadn't been out of anger; he'd seen her angry before, and it wasn't something he'd easily forget. But although she had progressed from one area of the ship to another—meditating with Mical, chatting with Mira, trying to help Bao-Dur fix things (though she broke more than she fixed)—she hadn't once ventured near the cockpit.

And when he had actually come _out_ of the cockpit, a somewhat rare occurrence, she'd determinedly avoided him.

Atton sighed and pulled his thoughts back to the game. _18. Use a +1, and I'll stand._

It wasn't like her to shut him out this way. _14. Not enough. I'll just end my turn._ She was always a quiet, private sort of person, but she had never seemed to mind his company before. _17. Use a +3, and stand._ Despite her annoyed glares and continuous insults, Atton had always gotten the feeling that it was just playful banter, that his joking, often stupid comments were generally welcome. _20, that makes it a tie._ Even his frequent offers to play her in pazaak, Nar Shaddaa style—though not entirely joking—were always taken in stride, and she even seemed to enjoy the games they played by standard rules. _23—Sith, I'm over._

_Damn, I lost._ It took him a moment to remember that he was playing against himself. _Oh, yeah. I guess I win, then._

Somehow, that didn't make him as happy as it usually did.

He glanced doubtfully at the door in front of him, wondering just how long a person could stay shut up inside a room before they went insane or got hungry.

He supposed he really shouldn't have done what he did, cornering her like that. She had been jumpy enough already, and he should have known better than to make it worse. But she'd looked so troubled, so vulnerable, and he hadn't been able to help himself. _Besides_, he thought defensively, _it's not like I was planning to _do_ anything. _

He'd just_… _just wanted to make her talk to him, even if it involved yelling and anger and accusations. _Anything_ would have been all right, as long as she'd acknowledged the fact that he still existed.

Because he didn't like being invisible, especially to her.

But all she'd done was push past him. There had been no yelling, no exchange of insults, no glaring like she wanted to drive her lightsaber through his stomach. She had just shoved him out of the way—there had been no contact there, either, she'd used that Force shove thing—and then she had shut herself in the room that Visas had vacated.

And she'd been in there all day.

It bothered him, this I'm-going-to-ignore-Atton-and-only-Atton thing. The last time she'd pulled anything remotely similar had been just after they'd left Nar Shaddaa; he'd said something mean to her about being a murderer, about killing and about Jedi hypocrisy, and she'd refused to speak to him for days.

He had deserved it, of course. He'd deserved to be spaced for what he said to her, but never mind that. The fact was that he couldn't for the life of him figure out what awful thing he'd done _this_ time. And he couldn't very well apologize for something when he didn't know what it was.

_Maybe I should ask her?_

But that would be stupid, of course. Completely stupid. More stupid than some of the stunts—mostly induced by the phrase "I dare ya!"—that he'd pulled back when he was a kid. Like diving off cliffs into icy waters full of who-knew-what. Like poking sleeping laigreks in their dark red eyes and then fleeing in terror.

Yeah, he'd done some stupid stuff.

There was nobody here to dare him now. There was nobody to say "Hey, Rand, I bet you wouldn't knock on her door and make her talk to you! I bet you'd be _scaaared_!"

His better judgment told him to leave her alone. He didn't understand Jedi, after all, even though he was one, and he didn't understand women, and the fact that she was both made him a little bit nervous.

But at the same time, he was more than a little concerned. He had a bad feeling about this place; even Kreia had cautioned them against it. Korriban, with its Sith Academy and Dark influences, seemed like a very bad place to be. And, as strong a person as Corsela Drace was… he couldn't help but wonder if it had done something to her.

"Cori?" he called softly through the door, trying not to sound too terribly concerned. It didn't work.

There was no answer, so he tapped on the durasteel door a few times.

Still no response.

And so, knowing that he might as well poke a sleeping laigrek in the eye, he opened the door and stepped in.

The first thing he noticed was how cold it was. Not physically cold, exactly, but it was still uncomfortable. Like a Force chill or something. Maybe this was what the dark side felt like when you felt it full-on.

He spotted Corsela over in one of the far bunks, and was slightly startled to see that she was asleep. Not meditating, as he'd often seen her do, but _sleeping_. Like a normal person.

Actually, now that he thought about it, now that she wasn't glaring at him or arguing with him or beating him at pazaak—he generally let her win, just to make sure she wouldn't get frustrated and leave—Atton was able to just _look_ at her without worrying about the repercussions. She wasn't stunningly beautiful, and she paled in comparison to many of the women he'd been with in the past. But then, those women had spent all their time worrying about how they looked. Cori had slightly more important things to do, like saving the galaxy from the evil Sith that wanted to sap the life from them all.

Still, there was no denying that she was attractive, despite the streaks of sweat and dirt that smudged her face and the dark purplish shadows under her eyes. He wondered vaguely just how long it had been since she'd slept. Not that damned meditation-wishing-it-was-sleep stuff that Blondie was always bugging her to do, but real sleep. Lying-down-and-not-concentrating-on-anything sleep.

Like what she was doing now.

He considered leaving and letting her get her rarely-found rest. It would be best, he thought, not to disturb her, because while bothering a sleeping laigrek was stupid, he knew that bothering a sleeping woman—and a Jedi, no less—was even worse. So he removed his jacket and spread it over her because it was so damned _cold_ in that room, and he turned to leave.

"What are you doing in here?"

_Aw, sithspit_.

He turned back around to face her accusing glare. "Just checking to see if you're all right, Angel," he drawled, before realizing that the nickname might not sit well today.

"I'm all right." She pulled his jacket tighter around her. "You can leave now."

He shrugged. "Sure, if you want me to. I don't care." This was, of course, a lie; he would much rather have stayed where he was. But she was speaking to him now, and he didn't want to push his luck. "You know me, sister. All apathy."

He had expected her to agree, or at least smirk at him, but at these words she turned toward him again, a startled expression on her face, and murmured something that he couldn't quite make out.

"What was that?" he asked with a frown.

She turned away again. "I said… apathy is death," she replied, a little louder, but her voice was still rather distant.

He frowned, confused. _What's she talking about?_ He hesitated for a moment, before asking, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied, suddenly herself again. "Go away."

He ignored this last comment and approached her again, sitting down beside her on the bed. "Look," he said gently, "whatever I did, I'm sorry.

Cori's expression softened at this. "You didn't do anything wrong," she said quietly.

Something in her voice seemed so empty, so vulnerable, that he just had to ask. "Was there anything you wanted to talk about?"

She thought about that for a moment. "No," she replied at last. "Not really."

He nodded. "Well, if you change your mind—"

"I'll let you know." She pulled the jacket tighter again, and Atton could see that her fingers were trembling. Whether this was from the cold—_Sith, it's cold_—or from something else, he couldn't tell.

"Maybe you should sleep somewhere else," he said with a frown. "It's too cold in here."

"It'll be cold wherever I sleep, I think."

He blinked once. "What do you mean?"

She frowned as well, as though choosing her words carefully. "This place is very… dark."

"Then we should leave."

"We will, soon." She smiled up at him. "I'd like to explore it a little more first, though."

Atton gawked at her. "Are you _serious_?"

She shook her head. "Don't worry, Atton. I've dealt with the worst of it."

_The worst?_ "Cori… What _happened_ back there?"

"I…" Cori's voice trembled slightly, but she regained her composure quickly. "I don't exactly know." She glared at him, catching sight of his look of skepticism. "I'm serious! I don't know _what_ it was, I just know that… I'm not going back there anytime soon, so you don't have to worry."

"Not going back _where_?"

"To the cave!"

"_What_ cave?"

"The cave where—" She stopped, catching herself. "Never mind."

"The cave where _what_, Cori?"

"Some old… things… got pulled back up." She sighed heavily. "A few new things, too. But it's no big deal."

"New things?" Atton's voice became softer. He knew that this probably wasn't the best subject to push, but the fact that she had told him this much already was encouraging. "What kinds of new things?"

There was a long, long pause, and he thought for a moment that she wasn't going to answer him. Then she said, "You," and Atton's heart jumped slightly. It fell again, however, at her next words: "And Kreia. And Mical, and Bao-Dur, and the others."

He sighed, but tried not to show his disappointment. "What happened when we all got… 'pulled up'?"

"I killed you," she whispered.

"_What!_"

There were tears in her eyes as she continued. "I had no choice," she murmured, and he felt guilty for making her talk about this. "I wasn't going to, but then you all said that apathy is death and you turned on me." She paused and drew a deep, shaky breath. "You were a Sith."

"I was a _what_?" His voice was now as soft as hers.

"You were a Sith," she repeated. "You were dark and evil and you were trying to kill me—but I couldn't…" The first tear rolled down her cheek, and she gave him a watery smile. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping it away before he could. "I'm being silly. It was just a trick of the dark side, that's all."

"You're not being silly," he said softly, pulling her into his arms. He half expected her to pull away, but she seemed content to stay where she was, leaning into him, and so he sat there and held her, because she _needed_ him to hold her. She needed him to be there for her, because nobody else was going to. Sure, she had her friends—but none of them knew her the way he did. None of them, he was sure, cared about her the way he did.

"Atton?"

"Yeah?" He released her to see that she had stopped crying, and she smiled at him again.

"I'm a little tired. I'm gonna go back to sleep now."

He smiled back. "All right. But… before you sleep, d'you want something to eat?" He stood up. "Here, I'll go get you something to eat."

"No, but thanks anyway."

"Okay." He took a few steps toward the door. "Are you sure?"

"Quite."

There was a short pause. "You know, it's no trouble on my part—"

"_Atton!_"

He winced. "Right, sorry."

Another pause.

"Atton?"

"What?"

"_Get out_."

He raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry, sorry." He left, grinning, and closed the door behind him.

Yes, he thought, as he returned to the cockpit with his deck of cards-- it was better to let sleeping laigreks lie.

---

_FIN_


End file.
